Growing up in an Urban Oasis

It’s a rare and wondrous thing to grow up in a house where you are a quick walk from the center of town and at the same time watch bears and rabbits pass through your yard. The blueberry bushes, water garden, lush flower beds, and fruit trees make the gardens that surround the main house and studio an informal sanctuary for animal visitors. As a child I loved climbing the apple tree like the squirrels and watching the frogs gather on the lily pads. The old apple tree fell over a decade ago, but with half of its trunk still firmly rooted it continued to produce blossoms and fruit, and attracted more animals with its bounty more accessible low to the ground. There is something especially magical about seeing a skunk sneak through the underbrush or a wild turkey dart across the grass in a place that is far from remote or wild.

I grew up in a house with spanish cookbooks and Barcelona style decor and design in a town teeming with restaurants and writers, music and multicultural events. The house itself is a classic Queen Anne Victorian with stained glass windows, turreted roof, and quartered oak floors. It has always been a home for the meeting of cultures—New England architecture and European food, furniture and art books. In the studio space I watched a Shakespeare company rehearse, listened to a local reggae group perform one night, and a poetry reading another. Home was both cosmopolitan, and a place where I could pick blueberries and write quietly by the edge of the water garden.

Having traveled and lived in other places now, I realize even more what a unique and beautiful thing it is to be located in the heart of a town so full of exciting events and artists, in a house that feels international and at the same time is itself a kind of calm oasis. The tall trees separate the house and garden from the road, and make the yard and water garden feel like a world of its own.